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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27920725">The Memories in the Earth We Left Behind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseintheWind/pseuds/RoseintheWind'>RoseintheWind</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Iwaoi Week 2020 [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Discrimination, Human Experimentation, Iwa can see visions too, Iwa is like a pastor in training, M/M, Magic, Oiks is a witch, Religious Content, Shitty parenting again, Tad bit of toxic masculinity, Witch and Religion AU, iwaoi week 2020, medieval times, religious trauma, tad bit of violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:07:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,088</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27920725</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseintheWind/pseuds/RoseintheWind</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>~~Iwaoi Week Day 6 - Enemies to Lovers~~<br/><em>Normal humans fear what they do not know. This ancient art, one that has been passed down for millennias, they do not recognize it. Trepidation is a scary thing when you do not know enough to control it. They feed into it, their fear. So when they project, when they come after you, run-and don't look back.</em></p><p>For all of the grief he goes through during the night to the new strange nightmares, Iwaizumi thinks his life is pretty well off. He spends time in church, does as he's told, and every-so-often sneaks out toward the wood. But something, he feels, is still missing. And it's not until he meets Oikawa Tooru does he finally see that he can unshackle himself to go after these secrets.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Iwaoi Week 2020 [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Memories in the Earth We Left Behind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I love how the only thing I'm putting my technical status of being Catholic toward is writing fanfiction. Some of this was physically painful to write. To anyone who's facing that, please stay safe.</p><p>Just a heads up for anyone who needs it, there is a tw for a noose near the end.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Run, and run as fast as you can.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oikawa recognizes this as a general rule, one passed between generations, time and time again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tooru, they don't like us.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because normal humans fear what they do not know. This ancient art, one that has been passed down for millennias, they do not recognize it. Trepidation is a scary thing when you do not know enough to control it. They feed into it, their fear. So when they project, when they come after you, run-and don't look back. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He understands, he knows he'll be caught eventually. But stopping now would be a disservice to his ancestors. So he runs, away into the wood, away from their pitchforks and fire, and away from the death that embodies humans themselves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He escapes them, the crazy ones that live on the outskirts. He knows people will go to his defence if he's asked or if they harass him in town. But how long, he wonders, until he's backed into a corner with no route of escape?</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi wakes up in a cold sweat. The dream he had faded, but he still remembers important pieces, things that unnaturally stick out in his mind like twigs on a tree branch. He recalls the wood close to the city, a rush of adrenaline as someone dashes through them. Voices and heat appear like chains, grappling him. They're so close, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>close-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he wakes up through a gasp and a cold sweat. As usual, he can't tell anyone about this. While he secretly reads human biology scripts that tell him that this "dreaming" is normal, his pastor would surely kick him out of the church if he ever admitted to such witchcraft. Especially when said "witchcraft" is so terrifyingly tangible. Tangible enough for his head to start distantly throbbing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stretches from his cot in the tiny room above the rest of his house that he has to himself. He's very lucky that his house almost connects to the local church next door, he wouldn't want to imagine the punishment if he were late to a sermon. He'd never try to be late but feels like he always seems to find himself at Satan's head of the unlucky. He tries to forget but absentmindedly hopes it isn't a witch's curse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He changes into his black robe and ties the white rope around his waist. It was a recently given gift by his parents for his eighteenth birthday, a tradition by the town. Red was given to children, at thirteen brown was given to teenagers, and black was given at eighteen to recognize adulthood. Perhaps now that he's been recognized, his father might be proud of him. He's aware that he loves him, but of course, you'd have to be arduous to prepare your son for priesthood. He understands.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He runs out, almost forget breakfast, eats too fast for his stomach to catch up, and attends the 8:00 am church session, cursing his horrible luck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He attends three times that day, on top of training sessions. He's so tired, had enough of the church for his day. The sun hangs in the middle of the sky, ready to be set. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He won't have much time, but maybe if he won't be caught, he can stop in the wood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They always talk of the danger of the wood, the witch's whisper that hangs off the branches and the devil's animals who hunt and kill anything within their red-tinted sight. Most people won't even step near the wood but he loves it there. He loves the smell of the earth and the dirt, the animals that roam free to their own desires. He loves the way branches swing to a cool breeze, something he's sure could never grace the tongues of witches with how it ruffles his clothes in a hugging manner. He loves it and wishes it was his own, but an anomaly, one of which he's never seen invades the space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's graceful, like one of the doves, stepping onto the lush grass without any sandals like he was made by the earth itself. But Iwaizumi has never seen someone like him before, someone with such lush brown hair like a pile of leaves, someone who wears such a bright blue colour that he would think is the culminations of a sky's grace if not for the red that slowly sinks below the trees sunkissing him. His robe isn't like anything he's seen either, rather than frilled at the hems of his hood and a bottom that is tied by the tight string of a rope, his frills all the way down his long sleeves and is tied in intricate weavings of gold string and hangs down to his waist. He bears skin from the base of his neck, and Iwaizumi wonders if in broad daylight if the robe is almost see-through, or at least lighter meshed than his. This anomaly should disturb him, make him report it to the high church imminently, but he's enamoured at what this stranger might do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he knows this isn't right. Whoever this, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stranger </span>
  </em>
  <span>is, he'll have to leave. The hard part though is Iwaizumi doesn't know if he's doing it because he wants him to escape or if he wants him to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The oddity seems to have spotted something though. Iwaizumi turns behind a nearby tree. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picks up the -what Iwaizumi can make out- injured rabbit that was limping and bleeding on the wood floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Iwaizumi thinks, now guilty. Who was he to assume something about someone he'd just seen based on what he looked like, especially after he shared that same rare sympathy toward animals?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The irregularity in the wood coddles the animal, slowly and softly. He shuts his eyes and Iwaizumi can't help but be thankful the man is saying a prayer for the injured animal before it has to be put down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the rabbit never dies. A soft, green glow encompasses it, and the rabbit starts to twitch before it jumps out of his arms and runs around like the injury was never inflicted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi can't speak. His throat goes dry. Everything he's ever been taught to hate, everything that has ever been revered by the ones he loves, there it was, standing in the middle of the wood like it never knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The anomaly, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>witch</span>
  </em>
  <span>, cracks a small smile at the rabbit as it flees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi doesn't understand. That wasn't the basic fundamentality of the witch doctrine. They weren't supposed to be kind. They didn't take things but for themselves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to take a step closer, to see what he'll do if he pushes the bounds of the person in front of him to his extremes to test his psyche, but he doesn't even get close before the witch notices something that doesn't belong, much like how Iwaizumi thought he didn't. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi looks away for a second before he's right in front of him, his hand pulsating red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let me guess." He starts, his voice like one from the angles. But Iwaizumi knows that can't be true, especially not with the malice sown into it, tainting it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who the fuck are you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought you'd already figured that one out. By the amount of time you've spent behind that evergreen, I'd guess that you could've already told your entire village about me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So aren't you afraid? Why won't you leave?" Iwaizumi tries to growl, but a soft undertone peaks its way through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not afraid of mortal humans. You could burn me on a damn stake for all I care." He laughs bitterly. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>And they've already tried that, so you better come up with some new ideas, quick</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, I'd love to do just that." Iwaizumi says, hoping his lack of executing said thing doesn't become noticeable to the witch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>try me</span>
  </em>
  <span>." His hand glows brighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well-I can't exactly right now!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witch scoffs. "To be expected of humans. They never keep their promises. Especially those who take under </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>profession."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What did you say?" Iwaizumi snarls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I said that interning under the reign of Catholicism will get you nowhere. You don't get secured into heaven. You aren't deemed holy under God's will. Catholicism is a joke, used to be under the guise to bully and secure fear into anyone who disobeys the laws of power-hungry monsters you let run your lives."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You heard me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi's face twists unnaturally, like he's never had so much anger pent up before. He knows that the church has done some bad things, but their human and all humans are sinners. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just because the church doesn't agree with you doesn't mean that you get to shit on it, asshole." Iwaizumi tries to reason to see if he can give the witch one last chance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witch briefly tilts his head, most likely at his blatant swearing (which he only does in the wood because he knows it'll be soaked up the forest's floor and not heard by God), before he scoffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think I'm quite within my bounds to criticize the "almighty" church. But as for you, it's too bad they turned someone with such..." The witch seems to contemplate, and softness, or perhaps understanding flicker over his features. "Determination...and drive into such a </span>
  <em>
    <span>slave</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not a slave to </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" Iwaizumi roars. He asks God to forgive him for what he's about to do in his name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what he was sure was going to stop the asshole in front of him was swiftly blocked. The witch looks unimpressed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'd love to stick around longer to face a strife against you, but I'm afraid I just don't have the time." He turns his back to him but looks over his shoulder as he starts to walk away. "And next time, make sure your murder attempt is better executed rather than just a rash decision. I wouldn't want to see you getting hurt."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Iwaizumi can jump after him, he's disappeared from sight. It doesn't happen before he can catch the witch stutter a cough of crimson and the multitude of raw bruises that cover his body accompanied by a limp in his leg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has to run as fast as he can when he realizes how high the moon is. His father awaits him at the door, stern as ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hajime? Where were you." He says as less than a question and more like a confirmation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought I saw a witch run into the wood, but it was just an animal." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The wood?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn't go in, I promise." He hates how he lies, hates how they roll easily off his tongue. It wouldn't appease the Lord. But he'd rather face himself than the end of something painful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His father squints at him. "Go to bed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, father."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While walking to church the next day, he sees him, the witch. A flock of damsels fawn around him as they offer him baskets of fruit and ointments. He takes them all and compliments them with a smile made by a fraud. Iwaizumi can only stare at him, the ire building in his blood too thick to be natural. His legs are covered by his now navy black robe. High socks completely cover the rest of his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hajime</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" His mother hisses. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>We're going to be late</span>
  </em>
  <span>!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shoots one last secret glare towards the witch, who must've caught his eyes with his demon-enhanced genes. His smile moves up to the top of his face and his eyes turn into slits. Iwaizumi's sure he'll be cursed in a matter of seconds so he takes off toward the church. His headache increases just by looking at him. In the distance, he hears one of the older maiden's calls for someone named "Oikawa" to help her with moving in and an offer to pay him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He goes to confession after church, his sins of thinking about the witch outweighing his devotion to God. But should he tell someone? That disgrace is a witch! He roams the streets like he's familiar with them, woos the girls with evil spells, and talks to townfolk like he's their next of kin, all with a sickeningly saccharine smile. But he's put his life into Iwaizumi's hands, somewhat. He despises this witch and despises their kind and their ignorance of God, but he'd be killing him if he told anyone. Another person -not human, witches aren't at all a Homosapien- but something that lives, like an animal. He'd see him burn before his very eyes, the screams echoing the centre town streets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would be glorious to witness the purge of the unholy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the blood would be on </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hajime!" Miss Akemi calls the next day. "Are you busy, currently?" She hobbles over to him on her weak cane. Boxes of flowers sit behind her in front of her shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not at all, miss," Hajime responds despite the remains of a headache sticking and the memory of the dream he was trying to uncover fading away. "I just finished a sermon. What do you need help with?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, my new flowers were delivered today and there's simply just too many! I have help, but I'm just worried we won't be done by nightfall."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sure the Lord wouldn't have sent me over here if you didn't need help miss."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs. "Oh, Hajime, you're too kind. Come with me." She leads him behind the shop. "It feels as if it's been forever since we've spoken! How have you been? What's training like?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've been doing well. The church teaches many things that are hard to wrap my head around sometimes. But it will pay off and I'm excited. Father and mother have been doing good too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's good to hear. I worry about all the work you take on sometimes, Hajime!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't worry. I make sure to regulate myself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That couldn't possibly a jab towards me, could it?" A new voice floats into the rooms, airy and friendly. The voice makes his heartbeat speed up in anticipation. He knows everyone in the village. Who's the stranger?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tooru! Oh, Hajime, this is my new intern Tooru. He's from out of town and will be staying with me for a while! Where did you say you were from, again?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Valleyshale, Miss."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've never heard of it!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, I've come a long way."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime recognizes it. It's a town north kept a secret by the church for mass purging of witches. They still hide there he hears, but it's too far north with too few populants to take another trek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stranger steps out from the back, a pleased smile gracing his face and him humming something harmonically. An orange lily sits behind his left ear as his doed brown eyes flick their way from the rest of the bouquet of lilies in his hands to Hajime's face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nice to meet you, I'm Tooru Oika- Oikawa." He stutters upon looking up. He analyzes Hajime with a neutral stare before putting on one of his brightest smiles. If Hajime didn't know any better, he'd think Tooru's tongue slipped by accident and his neutral stare in between was intimidating, at best. But to have crossed paths with him, and to see him as, if he dares say it, an enemy, he recognizes his false smile and charming movements. "But please, call me Oikawa. It was customary where I grew up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn witches. "Hajime. Iwaizumi." He says, clipped. "My father insists on Iwaizumi for the sake of the family and familiarity if you don't mind."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not at all. Wonderful to meet you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Miss, I wanted to ask before, but why have your flowers come so early this year?" He's not going to say anything more to the person beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miss Akemi's old face frowns, wrinkles turning sharp and eyes growing thin with consciousness. "I've heard news of witch population's growing up north. I fear for the safety of my business." She says sullenly. She turns to see the boys in front of her in concerned contemplation. "But no need to worry! Witches or not we'll all keep living somehow, hm? But enough chit-chat. We've got flowers to haul!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tooru Oikawa" doesn't look at him the entire time they work. Hajime almost wants to laugh at how easy he is to read. He can't imagine how the wrath of God feels under his head. Speaking of his head...of course, only male witches would wear flowers. But he doesn't look bad in it, just mildly strange. He hates the beauty of witches. They surely must have charmed all of their looks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why haven't you told anyone?" Oikawa asks coldly. He realizes he's been caught staring as his eyes never moved from the side of Oikawa's head which now bore into his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It would be more satisfying to see them find out. Your guilt will only consume you meanwhile."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm glad you think so. You believe in so much little priestess."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What else have you hexed?" He growls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Excuse me? Where did that come from?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can't really expect me to believe you naturally charmed the townfolk. I've known them for years and they know a fraud when they see one. What have you done to them?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa scowls. "If you're thinking of getting rid of me you better find some better evidence. I've done exactly as you have and earned it. It's a shame you're so unpersonable that I've gotten along better with them than you have."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why are you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I should've assumed you'd like making chaos but do you exist to demonize </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you ever considered that "cruel" witches have to live too? I don't steal from families. I don't hex children. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm trying to live the life I had before it was taken away from me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I would peg you for someone who doesn't understand, someone who believes they are better than life itself to trash those who have to piece together the puzzle that was dismantled without their permission. So you ask God to guide you? What do you do when you realize God takes those pieces because he doesn't care, can't empathize, and scatters them because he can? You relate that to yourself. So I ask you: do you believe you are above God? Or have you so farly broken the shackles on the mortal state that you, yourself, have been deceived to believe you own a higher position of humanity?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not-I don't-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry. I refuse from now on to listen to illusioned fools who are slaves to their minds. If you'd like to talk to me again, I hope your brain becomes as deceptive and intelligent as the witch that I am and whom you believe me to be." Oikawa turns away and doesn't speak to him for the rest of the day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later that night, the conversation echos through his head until he manages to fall asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Tell me about it."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"About what? There's nothing to say."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Of course there is! You are who you are for a reason!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"...No."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"What if I told you I was intrigued, and that I wanted to know. Not to tell someone else, but...for myself. That's what the trip was for right?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Have you, too, been seeking the truth?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Is that the way you put it?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Yes. I can't imagine phrasing it any differently."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Then tell me the truth. Tell me what it means to not be a slave."</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He remembers it this time. He'd like to think that everything important he remembers. Who was talking though? He doesn't even think he's in his own dreams anymore. Yet he can see enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's not supposed to see anything and yet he wants to see more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>You disgusting, greedy, sinner.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" He says to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He avoids Oikawa as much as he can, not that Oikawa's looking for him. What do you say to someone who's completely figured you out, someone who's seen your soul for its own? People don't do that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Normal </span>
  </em>
  <span>people don't do that. But Oikawa, of course, isn't like them. He's not just a witch, he's clearly...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Different.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After nightly mass the pain becomes unbearable. His head feels like it's shattering, like the very fabric of space is pulling him apart by a crack at the top of his head. It's never been like that, but perhaps it's amassed over time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stumbles to the flower shop, in the corner where no customers come and the workers place leftover flower cases. He stumbles into chests and causes a noise his ears don't register. He hears a call too far into the distance. His vision threatens to forcefully close on him like he's singlehandedly facing the deep, expanseless, night sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, what a play</span>
  </em>
  <span>." He thinks someone says above him. The words don't register, the water over him grows deeper. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm sure you've thorou -en-oy- stal-ing- m-. Don- pret-nd- to do th- Iwa-'. I cau-t you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Iwaizumi.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>IWAIZUMI!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He startles, pain ricocheting off his brain. "AUGH!" He clutches both of his hands to his skull. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What are you doing?" Oikawa asks with a huff. "I'm supposed to be gone only temporarily. Tell me why I shouldn't just cast you away."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just...please. Shut the hell up. You're too loud. Everything's...too loud..." He writhes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stop screaming blue murder. They'll all hear you. I'll..." He huffs a tired sigh. "I'll fix you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You intrigue me sometimes, you know? How does your mind work?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can't really-think-please-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa mumbles something he can't hear and places a glowing yellow hand to his head as he crouches down. His eyes skew in concentration, and amongst the barely navigatable thoughts, he sees Oikawa in a shadow of his own light, yellow caressing his features and dipping deeply into the crevices of his cheekbones. Iwaizumi almost comes up with a thought, one he can recognize before Oikawa yanks his entire body and clutches his hand like he's been burnt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Who the hell are you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" He whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What-what do you mean?" He chokes out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can see visions. My mother, she could do that. But nothing holds a candle to your vividness. Your mindscape, it's so bright. Your flashes are even richer than hers were." He says in disbelief. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Who are you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-I don't know! Just-please-stop torturing me!" He chokes. "Just-" Hot tears slip down his face. He can't feel them slide, but he feels the heat, feels the torrents of scalding pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa doesn't say anything, just shuts his eyes closed and gets closer to Iwaizumi. Green almost envelops all of the fair skin on his face. Determination replaces concentration and Iwaizumi briefly wonders if a spell to be charmed by is what Oikawa Tooru is casting upon him. Because as his mind replaces itself, the cracks being repaired by a matter of time and whatever else he's not allowed to study, he thinks that Oikawa Tooru is beautiful. He may be a witch, he may be reclused, but he's something. And that's more than Iwaizumi's ever had before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Does that feel better?" Oikawa asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes." His throat is so dry, what happened to the water that flooded his ears- "Thank-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's swallowed by the darkness but he's not alone. Something soft touches his skin and in his brief moments of remaining consciousness, he feels his flesh prickle and burn pleasantly, a feeling he's never felt before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His sleep is dreamless. A headache never comes when he wakes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hajime!" Is called from downstairs. He's being called from his room. The entire previous night, did he really not have a dream? Or were the events of last night his dream?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What </span>
  <em>
    <span>happened</span>
  </em>
  <span> last night?" His mother enunciates. His father is, predictably, nowhere to be seen in the household. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, mother. I stayed up praying too late with a friend. There was something I simply couldn't let go of that I had to talk to God about." He hopes that's what she's talking about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He had to carry you." His mother's face scrunches. "How could you </span>
  <em>
    <span>fall asleep</span>
  </em>
  <span> during prayer?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, mother, you misunderstand-" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I misunderstand </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. How can we raise you to be the town's priest with an attitude toward easily giving into sin? Out of all of the children, all of the ones they saved, you should be more grateful we chose you. You live under us. We expect you to behave as we ask."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, mother."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're lucky father's not around. You wouldn't be standing so freely in my kitchen if so. Now hurry, you'll be late."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi's throat tightens. "And Hajime?" She calls. "Don't bring your friends around again. The Lord tells me they embody sin."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course mother. I love you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her flat lips don't move as he exits out the door. Her eyes never leave the breakfast she's eating either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I, uh, wanted to thank you with...flowers...but you're always here so I guess my measures have been counterproductive."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa sighs from behind the counter. "If you really wanted to see me, you didn't have to go out of your way to look like a fool." Oikawa says out of the corner of his eyes as he focuses on restocking the shelves behind him. His side-eye tells him he's been given a way out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why did you do it?" He blurts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa gives him a soft glare. "You still don't seem to get it." He doesn't sound aggravated, just worn. "It's not about me. My power never has. I don't want to hurt people, I have this gift to serve and it's wasted on me alone. If I left you to wither in pain, I'd be going against my purpose. Well, my secondary purpose. I don't like to just leave people to their own pain either like the ignorance does in normal mortals."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Would you tell me, someday?" It slips. Maybe he was cursed with a spell to make him say whatever he's thinking, or maybe it's the deep-rooted curiosity that's he's left festered and untouched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hate you, you should know." Oikawa says it softly as one would speak of their own insecurities to the only other person they'd trust the words with. "You're infuriating. I don't know where your goals lead to, something of your own design or something being lead in shadow by someone else. If I may ask, contrary to your love of not using unabashedness, what...what drives you to talk to me? Why do you stay?" Curiosity brims in the centre of his eyes, but pain ripples behind them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugs. "Would you take: because you're interesting, as an answer?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa scrunches his eyes in the way he does when he's analyzing something. "You hate me. I hate you. I don't think "interesting" is what applies here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You saved me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yep, we've been over that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hope you know you're really hard to get along with."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa barks a laugh and his guarded tongue stretches into a natural smile. "That's the whole point." He puts on the mask of the smile he shows everyone else. "Well, if that's all, did you need anything from the shop? I can offer you black roses!" He sings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not an idiot." Oikawa's eyebrows shoot up. He grumbles. "I know what those mean."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not what they mean~" Oikawa teases. "It's more of do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>them."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This conversation's going off the depths of nowhere."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hm? I have no idea what you're talking about."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bye </span>
  </em>
  <span>Oikawa."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do come back soon! Have a nice day!" Oikawa calls after him in that tone he knows he's using on purpose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steps out of the doors and waves goodbye to Miss Akemi. The church stares back at him, the bell about to ring for his classes. And he wonders, for the first time in his life, what it would make him be if he left and never came back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words of the church start to blend, the word of God filtering through his brain like it's in a language he can't understand. Maybe it's in one he doesn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to understand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hajime, what happened? You must pay attention to your studies! You won't succeed this way!" His mother chides him. "What happened to want what the father wanted, to being what the village needs?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mother, what if I told you I needed to leave?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Leave</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You can't </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave</span>
  </em>
  <span>! What would your father say?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry. I've been told...there's been a message."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gasps. "No...that's what you've been called for?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods. "A message from God." He whispers for his mother's sacredness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, we must spread the news! You must leave immediately! Does your father know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was going to speak to him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He'll be back very soon. I'm glad you've finally made use of all of the teachings we've put you in." He's never known his mother to say sorry. He's sure she's never uttered the word. What she said wasn't an apology. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His father walks through soon later. His mother runs up to him and holds him as if she's pleading to a lover to not let her die if she was subjected to the gallow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's done it!" She harshly whispers. "He has to leave, for the Lord!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His father's eyes briefly flick over and his eyebrows furrow to him as if he can't believe it, like his son is incapable of such a feat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You've been told to leave?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I won't be gone forever. Just a bit."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course. You're not good enough to have an altering assignment." He's not "experienced" or "trained" enough. He's simply not good enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pack your things. The Lord does not like to be kept waiting."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course." He hurries up the stairs to pack the minimal amount of things he has. A temporary shelter to weather the trip, extra robes, and some freshly baked products. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Goodbye." His mother says, short, clipped. Her hardened eyes are trained on the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do not upset the Lord, or never return to this household." His father says. He doesn't spare a goodbye from his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hajime! Congratulations!" Miss Akemi calls from the side of the shop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you." He mutters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door loudly creaks open as the brunette behind the counter turns to look at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm leaving." He says before Oikawa can get the words he was about to speak out of his open mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're...</span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" He shrieks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have to leave."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But-the things here! You're leaving it all behind forever, just because?" Iwaizumi hopes a </span>
  <em>
    <span>you're leaving me behind too? </span>
  </em>
  <span>was implied in Oikawa's words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I need to talk to you about it. Not here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa peers around the shop to see no one around. They walk to the back exit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What could the great Iwaizumi need to disturb my high working job for? Besides the fact that you've just announced to me that you're packing everything up and not looking back."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, that's not it. No one can know about this."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you serious? The entire town already knows!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>No! I mean the fact that it's all fake</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" He harshly whispers. "There </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>no message from God! I just- I need to know something. I need to get away from here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who would've thought," Oikawa muses. "That the same blind religion-driven slave would see some light?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi glares. "Not it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa shrugs. "If you say so. So what's this about?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I need you to come with me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa gawks at him. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you mad?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think you've said that about me once."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, you don't understand-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabs the top of Iwaizumi's robe. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Listen to me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You don't understand what it means to be me! I've built this up, trust, something with other people. They believe I'm normal. I'm being an apprentice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can't give this up. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Not when I've worked so hard for it. I can't just leave and jeopardize everything, for someone I don't even consider a </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend</span>
  </em>
  <span>!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then don't leave with me. I just thought I'd offer. I won't even be gone that long."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where are you that you feel you have to be?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The orphanage."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The...orphanage?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was raised there. You said I have visions. I refuse to believe you until I see what happened for myself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa scoffs. "You're insane."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought that's what you liked to be."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're the one who pegged me for suggesting something degrading about your God. Now look where you are."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. You're right." Oikawa flinches. "So you should come with me. Unless you're satisfied with what you've been left with." Iwaizumi turns to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hate you." Oikawa says behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You've said that before. Is that all you can say?" He doesn't turn around to look at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, you've got something right. But my satisfaction? I'll guess here I'll fulfill it myself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is that a yes?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why don't you follow me and find out?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You never make things easy, do you?" Iwaizumi grumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe you shouldn't have me along then." Oikawa sings. "Miss Akemi!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tooru? Is there something wrong? And Hajime! Do you need flowers for your quest?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you, but no miss."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Miss...I have to inform you about new developments I've learned about. My family...there has been news of them. I have to leave for a while."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miss Akemi gasps. "Tooru! That's-wow. Of course. Please, pack as much as you need and make sure you find them!" She clasps his hands. "I'm so sorry you were left without them for so long. If you and Hajime are going the same way, perhaps you can keep each other company? I-oh come back in! We'll find some supplies!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa's bag is much fuller than Iwaizumi's. Miss Akemi waves them goodbye and wishes them luck, hoping their journeys end in success. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they reach the outskirts of town do they finally exchange words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is going to be an overnight trip I presume?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It took half a day on horseback to get us back to Shroudswood from them picking me up." Iwaizumi says. "I think we'll be there in less than a day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I wouldn't want to keep the children waiting! Let's go."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nightfall dawns over a sky clear night. The "stars" as Oikawa tells them as twinkle high in the sky like dots on crochet. The pinpricks fly through the sky, the movement detectable or not. But Iwaizumi knows the space up there is vast and far. He's sure they move like the whispy white things during daybreak sometimes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Do you really think you can find your family here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa snorts. "Of course not. There's nothing left of them, after all."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They don't have lots, just enough to sleep in. Iwaizumi finds he can't sleep and shivers, the tingles in his body not being enough to supply it with heat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa cracks a tired eye open and lights a fire in his palm. No human should be able to handle pure fire without it whipping wildly and uncontrollably. No human should be able to hold fire and not burn their skin with the feel of one thousand suns. But Oikawa is no human, and the heat is a comfort throughout the night until Oikawa's strength depletes and his eyes flutter closed, subjected to their own fatigue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"What-why? How is this possible?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I think almost everything's still intact. The fire looks like it's just on the outside of the building. But this is...uncomfortably recent. Like they wanted to catch us here before we even had a chance."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He feels hot, so sharply scalded. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You're lucky I decided to come."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It doesn't feel as hot anymore, like he's been blessed as the Lord saw the devil's fire and needed to pour it out with the purist of rains. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I found something." He feels the rich paper in his hands. "Something...important." His own voice feels too far into his ears. All he can see in his limiting vision is his name written in perfectly looped ink on top of a page.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His head-it's splitting. It's being torn like those pieces of paper, mauled beyond what it's fabric is supposed to be. He'll cease to exists after he rips it, and that's for the better, as long as it's gone, </span>
  <em>
    <span>as long as the pain is gone-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Relief washes over him again, as one calms a storm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you see anything else?" A soothing voice asks above him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes. The pain only happens when the visions come." He cracks open his eyes, little by little as the pain becomes completely eradicated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's greeted with what he thinks is an angel, too beautiful to be of the world before he remembers that's just Oikawa, and he's also a witch, and he's probably also messed with his appearance. And they're also in the middle of nowhere at daybreak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks..." He mutters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa sits up and brushes his robe off. "Do you feel better?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What? Trying to inflate your ego?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa glares. "Maybe I should be leaving you off on your own more. You're strong. You'll survive."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Not a compliment, not a compliment, not a compliment-</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Iwaizumi thinks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We have to get going." Oikawa continues. "We're almost there."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pack up their belongings and leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What did you see?" Oikawa asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi screnches his eyes, pulling himself away from the outside world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Someone was talking, and there was a fire. Or something very hot. Then everything cooled, and all I saw was a paper with my name on it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So much more vivid than mother's...must have to with the orphanage. If you're talking about fire, we'd better move fast. Hope you can keep up!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, you're on."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa makes all of his belongings as light as air and wins. Iwaizumi exclaims that he's cheating, and Oikawa tells him there were no rules. But Oikawa didn't "win" at the orphanage. The hill over, sullen and green poured with smoke, and it wasn't until they reached the top did they realize their race was less about winning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What-why? How is this possible?" Iwaizumi asks in disbelief as they reach the orphanage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa glances one over at the building. "I think almost everything's still intact. The fire looks like it's just on the outside of the building. But this is...uncomfortably recent. Like they wanted to catch us here before we even had a chance."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fire nips at their clothing, threatening to take them down with the building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're lucky I decided to come." Oikawa mutters. He summons a bubble of water as big as the building and his eyes sharpen to focus on encasing it. The clear bubble wraps around it in all of its entirety, and the fire gets swallowed within. Oikawa splits his arms to their full wingspan and the water disperses across the land for miles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi rushes in, and true to Oikawa's observation, whoever set the fire didn't do a very good job. Or perhaps a hasty job. Almost nothing was touched on the inside and only the exterior bore scorch marks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he can only observe this. The first step into the building makes him want to throw up, sickness fizzles in his stomach. Every step he takes bubbles a memory of a path he's perfectly been down before. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Slave, slave, slave, slave, slave. They chant. He's nothing to them. Worthless for only the body he has and the things they can inject into him to see if he'll ever be more worthy than a slave. </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He weaves around the main dining hall and looks up to where the rooms hang on the floor above. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Room 227</span>
  </em>
  <span> chimes in his head. He doesn't want to go near it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The main office was situated off of one of the hallways far behind the dining hall. He zooms ahead of Oikawa, the ripples in the river of stone familiar in something he might've done as a child and been punished for it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Slaves don't have the will to do that, okay? You're not allowed back.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He opens one of the ancient cabinets as dust flies in his face. A stack of withered papers sits together, full of previous attendants. He wants to find it and leave. Maybe the place was better off being burned to the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I found something." He feels up the rich paper in his hands and says shakily, hoping Oikawa will hear. "Something...important." He flips through the pages until he sees "Iwaizumi" in perfectly looped ink on top.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's something you'll want to see after." Oikawa says as he runs in from another location in the building. "What did you find?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My file from when I lived here. This place...I don't want to be here anymore than I have to. I remember my room, the different places inside and running around them. I spent years here. I've blocked the memories. But, I didn't realize coming back-" He holds a hand to his mouth like the resurfacing memories are about to be thrown up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa puts one of his hands to his forehead and suddenly the memories become numb. Bits and pieces resurface, but nothing to put him in a sedative state. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I won't take your memories but I've helped numb them. I hated feeling that, the internal pain. I couldn't cure it for myself, but did it work for you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes." Iwaizumi answers, slightly dazed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa takes the piece of paper Iwaizumi was holding into his hands and scans it. "There." He points to a specific spot on the page written almost unintelligible with what he can only assume someone was writing with not a lot of time of their hands. "Patient 227, experiments ran daily. Terminated after showing no signs. Adopted XX-XX-XXXX. When did the visions and the headaches start to appear?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right before I met you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So two months ago. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wait.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" He takes the stack and flips through the names.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Killed in experimentation, terminated for no signs, terminated for no signs, terminated, terminated, killed, terminated, terminated, relocated (showed signs), killed-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The list went on and on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come with me." Oikawa grabs his arm and leads him down one of the long hallways. Iwaizumi remembers being forbidden to be down it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Slave to experimentation. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rings once through his mind before it's shoved back again without a second thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is this familiar?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They continue to walk. The hallway gets mustier and damp. It darkens beyond human vision and Oikawa summons a light into his palm. At the very end of the hallway stands two big doors, one of which has been busted open by he can only assume one of Oikawa's spells. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>room familiar?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes." He says, more strained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"More painful memories here..." Oikawa looks to his face. "We won't be long but I noticed something."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi looks around to try to see what Oikawa sees. There are many tubes filled with dried liquid and blood that stains the floor. Needles poke out dangerously as they are haphazardly scattered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They've never let you touch human biology?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi nods. Oikawa sneers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They've been saving it all for themselves. Do you see all of this? They used you, as I'm sure you know. They used you to test their experiments, to see how far they could go using the basics of mortal infostructure. Normal humans have still been hunting witches out of fear, fear for the power they can't control by the "will of God" but this serves the exact opposite purpose." Degraded flesh sits in the corner of the room, scorch marks flaming the corroding skin which didn't come from the earlier fire. "My family, my friends. They were killed in a fire ten years ago. I ran for my life and didn't look back. But now I know this specific breed wasn't from fear, or more specifically because they didn't comprehend. It was for control."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't understand-" Iwaizumi says weakly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"When you were young, or possibly much before that and still today, some group has been hunting witches for their blood. You were one of their test subjects. They've been trying to inject witch's blood into humans, either for that understanding or to make their own controlled machines. Everyone I know..." He closes his fists. "Gone. For their own purpose. Because they choose not to understand and crave war instead. But there's something else. Only a select few people on that list we're actually qualified for further training. It seems they didn't want to kill their own kind and orphaned them off, like with you. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn hypocrites.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But that's not all." Iwaizumi gives him a confused glance. What more could they want with orphaned, defaced, children?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think they've failed with so many people because they've never unlocked the resource behind the witches. Witches are incredibly connected, and you didn't unlock your power until just before you met me. You've probably never come into contact with witches before, right? Do you see what I'm saying? They've never harnessed it because you need an alive witch to come in some sort of contact! That's why there are so many people who were trashed! Because they couldn't figure it out!" He barks a laugh bordering either hysteria or self-deprecation. "Of course! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a human wouldn't be able to unlock the secrets of witches! How we never realized it sooner..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you figured that all out just by looking around?" Iwaizumi asks, awestruck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yep!" Oikawa hums. "I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>pretty good at-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The fire! It's gone!" Someone yells from outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa's face falls as fast as it rose. "We have to leave."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What? But we can talk to them! For all they know-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>For all they know </span>
  </em>
  <span>we could be exactly what they're expecting. I'm not willing to chance it! We have to leave."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think I remember an exit." Iwaizumi says loftily, unsure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They run to a back door in the dining hall, the bars rusted off that would've made it impossible for a (</span>
  <em>
    <span>weak</span>
  </em>
  <span>) child to escape years ago. He pulls them off easily, and doesn't look back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hill doesn't leave them much coverage. Iwaizumi looks behind him to see two people surveying the building. They're so close over the hill, the trees over in sight, exhaustion almost tearing his muscles down before one of them turns and says "Hey!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa curses something jumbled before he unexpectedly grabs Iwaizumi's hand and he's pulled to a realm where he can't see his legs from under his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>What the hell?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shhh</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" Comes Oikawa's voice beside him. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>You're invisible. If they hear you we'll be dead! Listen, you can't see your body and no one else can either. You can't see your hand right? The one I'm holding?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He's not wrong. He's still running, his legs are still there. He takes his right hand and his chest is still there, his face, his eyes, his ears, all intact. The hand that connects his to Oikawa's-it pulses with the heat that slithers and unites them together. Luckily, Oikawa can't see his face. But when he looks over, Oikawa isn't in his frame of view either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>We won't be able to run forever, or I won't be able to. Let's go to one of those trees."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Exactly what I was thinking." </span>
  </em>
  <span>He hopes Oikawa's smiling as he recognizes their synced plan. Maybe Oikawa's reading his mind or putting things into it. But maybe not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stick to the side of a tree, the two (what Iwaizumi can now make out) men stopping in their tracks, befuddled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where did they go?" The first asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not far." Replies the second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We can go into Shroudswood and ask around. Those were witches for sure and they won't tolerate that." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa's grip on Iwaizumi's hand grows tighter, strained. He's not sure if it's out of fear, anger, or because he's trying to concentrate his magic. Iwaizumi gives him a squeeze of reassurance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only when the men disappear from their vision does Oikawa let go of his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We have to go back, we're running out of supplies and it's the nearest town." Iwaizumi blurts as if he were holding his breath the entire time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa sighs. "Yeah, I know. We just won't go to town immediately."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you okay?" Iwaizumi asks, the sting flowing throughout his fingertips tingling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course! I can handle something like that! I've been through worse!" Iwaizumi remembers Oikawa's leg. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And your leg-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine." Oikawa brushes him off. "Are you ready for the trip back?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just as much as you are." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa smirks. "Off we go then!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they arrive in town after, the place bustles with concerning noise. The men who saw them were quicker than they thought, and people whisper like any one of the people around them would be a witch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They steal food from the stalls and make their way in the busy crowd. Iwaizumi catches sight of his mother not too far away and he tears his gaze away from Oikawa who's been holding his hand for a while. She frowns at fruit selections because none of them are up to her aptitude. He's yanked forward and crashes into someone in front of him, causing him to let go of Oikawa's hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry, I didn't see you there." He mumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hajime?" His mother looks up from the fruit. "Why didn't you tell me you were back?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He casts a startled glance in front of him. Oikawa's nowhere to be seen, as he should. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just got back." He gulps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're coming with me." She asserts. "There have been reports of a witch sighting not too far away. I can't allow you to leave without me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, you don't understand I have to-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Speaking </span>
  <em>
    <span>of</span>
  </em>
  <span>," She ignores his pleas. "Where did you come from? I should've seen you..." Her eyes widen. The realization dawns on her like a storm about to hit him and she's taken the personification of lightning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry!" He calls one last time before sprinting away to find Oikawa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>HAJIME IWAIZUMI YOU COME BACK HERE</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" She screeches. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>YOU'RE IMPURE! DISGUSTING! WHEN I GET YOUR FATHER WE'LL HAVE YOU BACK FROM WHATEVER MONSTER CAUGHT YOU!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He catches Oikawa in the middle of the crowd and disappears deep into the wood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't realize the tears are rolling down his cheeks until Oikawa starts to talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry." He doesn't meet his eyes. "I dragged you into this. You used to live normally. I was only an actor in a play. You used to have something and I ruined it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The absurdity bursts out of Iwaizumi's mouth in a hearty laugh. "Are you kidding me? You must be mad." He brings his hands up to his eyes and wipes the tears away. This-this is the freest I've felt in my whole life. Meeting you has been my greatest gift."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, when you put it like that..." Oikawa mutters before shaking his head, letting his loose curls fluff out messily. "We don't have much time you know. But I don't know where we're going to go. I can only keep us invisible for so long, and they'll find us soon enough."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then we run again for as long as we can. Valleyshale is north of here right? Where you're from? We can go there."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The light in Oikawa's eyes dim and his eyebrows and lip crease in worry. He turns to open his mouth but Iwaizumi cuts him off and snaps Oikawa's mouth shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We'll make it." Is all he says. And when Oikawa looks up, he looks like he believes him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So they run again, run as far as they can on what they have with the promise of what they'll do. It is only beneath the nightfall do they stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tell me about it." Iwaizumi asks as they lay in the fluffy green grass that Iwaizumi feels could swallow him whole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"About what? There's nothing to say." Oikawa breathes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course there is! You are who you are for a reason!" Iwaizumi looks over to Oikawa whose eyes are trained on the stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa hesitates. "...No."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What if I told you I was intrigued, and that I wanted to know. Not to tell someone else, but...for myself. That's what the trip was for right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you, too, been seeking the truth?" Oikawa asks, almost a question to no one in particular.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is that the way you put it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes. I can't imagine phrasing it any differently."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then tell me the truth. Tell me what it means to not be a slave." This catches Oikawa's attention. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you sure? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Reflects in his eyes. Iwaizumi hardens his stare in affirmation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa breathes out a long breath to the wind, an offering of the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm a witch, as you know. I've recently seen that my kind was hunted for their blood and to control soldiers who I can assume against goddess-knows-who. I lived near Valleyshale with a small community that was burned and many of the people I loved died. I don't know how many people survived. I could be the only one."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa closes his eyes and takes another deep breath. "Witches don't have a God like you do, or believe in it with blind faith. The Goddess of the Earth, she's real. She lives </span>
  <em>
    <span>on</span>
  </em>
  <span> Earth, disguised. Myrs ago, she fueled the Earth for humanity, but they took her for granted. They created rampant pollution and poisoned her. So she created a tribe of people with her power to try to save her for humanity itself. It didn't work. But they found out that they could transfer their own life force into her to preserve her life, and that lead them to figure out memories were the strongest form of life you could give without permanently losing the memories themselves or your own life. But the memories from witches wouldn't be enough after they died and they wouldn't be able to reproduce fast enough. So there's been a charm that is passed between generations and every millennia someone has to find her and give her the memories for the stake or nature itself. That is why we are so connected, the reason for our existence itself. And I have it now. Memories of millenniums. I own it now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" Is all Iwaizumi can utter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's it. The memories. I'm in charge of them. I have the fate of the Earth on my shoulders." Oikawa opens his eyes. He still won't look at him. "You know, I've never been the same after that day. I couldn't trust humans, still really can't. Whatever happens tomorrow, though, I'm glad you were there for it." A smile lifts to his face. His eyes glitter off the reflection of the stars. Moonlight pours into the crevices of his hair, bunched from the ground, mother Earth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We'll make a new tomorrow." He mutters. They'll make a new tomorrow, one where they can pour all of their memories and live a life they've always desired. Tomorrow won't be something they'll fear, he'd like to say. He'd like to give all of his tomorrows to Oikawa as long as it meant that freedom was theirs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa sits up softly, analyzing his face. The moon splits the sky above them in a dividing veil. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought only God could do that." Oikawa whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I used to think God could do a lot of things. Being with a witch wasn't one of them." He replies before invading Oikawa's space in a way he knows he's not supposed to, told countless times how wrong it would be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet here he is, discovering things with him, leaving with him, sharing with him, touching him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>kissing him </span>
  </em>
  <span>in a space where he's committing a crime, sprouting the root of evil from his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he knows he can't be wrong. Not when someone who's guarded himself in the same ways put down his walls to the same temptation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can you promise me something?" He asks Oikawa as they're about to fall asleep in each other's arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa hums, burying himself deeper into the outside silk of Iwaizumi's robe and his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can you promise me this isn't some sort of spell you've put me under?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa only chuckles. "If you were in some kind of spell, you wouldn't have been able to even ask that question."</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Something swings ominously in the distance, smooth like a metronome. He feels rooted to the spot, something happening in front of him but he can't move, can't understand what's happening beyond the blur. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why are people chanting? Where's all of the muffled noise coming from? There's no one around him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But most of all, something obvious sticks out to him. He searches the non-existent crowd for someone, someone who won't stick out even amongst them, even though he should. The question rings in his head like the sway of the thing he can't place in front of him, even and clear. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Where is Oikawa?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi's head is already in Oikawa's lap when he wakes, Oikawa's magic pouring through his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How did you know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I had a feeling. What did you see?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I...almost can't place it. There was a crowd shouting about something, and something hanging in front of my vision but everything was blurry. I didn't see you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa nods. "We better leave. We don't know how much time we have."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"HEY!" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cuts through the silence, the trees of the wood which supposedly was owned to the witch's eye. But witches weren't looking at them, scrutinizing them for a crime they didn't commit. It was the humans of the village and the outskirts, and their pitchforks and their fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hajime!" His mother yells from the crowd. "Come here! We'll get you fixed from that witch's spell! It won't be like this!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't act like you care." He snarls. "And you know what? If I was under a spell, I wouldn't be able to ask if I was under one in the first place." He reiterates Oikawa's earlier words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some of the villagers look scandalized. His father who sits by his mother looks infuriated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"GRAB THE WITCH!" Someone shrieks from the group. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"NO!" Iwaizumi yells in front of Oikawa. "You have it wrong! He's harmless, he doesn't want to fight you!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hajime." Oikawa softly mutters and lightly touches his shoulder. "I understand what you want." Oikawa starts. "Hajime's right though. I wish to live in peace. I heal people, not hurt. I don't want to take away what you have when it's already been taken from me. I know what that feels like. And I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Yes, I'm a witch," The crowd looks uneasy, nervous about their own being. "But harm is something I stand the opposite of so, please. Hajime's done nothing wrong. And I hope you can believe me when I say the same about myself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mob is silent. Iwaizumi hopes they are taking into account Oikawa's words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi's mother comes forward first. "Hajime-" She says firmly like she still doesn't believe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know mother, I'm sorry. But please don't hurt Oik-Tooru." He says just as firm. If Oikawa can say it, then so can he. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>You.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" His mother seeths. She stomps toward Oikawa with his father on her heels. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>You were the one who corrupted my son, </span>
  </em>
  <span>who brought him away from everything he's ever known and wrecked it! You've ruined our family! </span>
  <em>
    <span>And we were considering letting him go free</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No! It isn't like that-" Iwaizumi yells because he only has one chance, he has to get through to them-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"These </span>
  <em>
    <span>monsters </span>
  </em>
  <span>have been taking our children! They believe they can get anything they please! Well, we won't be listening to your sympathy act </span>
  <em>
    <span>witch</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You'll be with the rest of your family soon." Her words cut through Iwaizumi's chest like he was personally stabbed with one of the pitchforks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, please-let me get past!" He yells as they start to haul Oikawa away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shhh, Hajime, you're safe." His mother puts a hand on his forehead. "He can't corrupt you anymore."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That was my own choice!" He slaps her hands away. "I-I care for him! You can't-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hajime. The adults are talking. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Leave.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His father grabs his arms as his mother follows the mob and Oikawa's screaming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, father, you can't!" He struggles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Enough of this nonsense!" He shouts. "We'll get you sorted eventually."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's shoved into his room, where the pendulum swings in the town square. Oikawa's crimes are being listed, that of being none at all, and he stands on a stool in front of a rope, his eyes wandering and fear piercing his body. Iwaizumi screeches from the top of his house, petrified and not being able to move. He tries to kick his door down to no avail, he can't jump off because he's bared. Tears fall down his face to the point where he can hardly see. His head rings, and there's no one there, no one that can stop it because he can't get out, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he can't leave. He can't watch him die. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They're placing the rope around his neck and Oikawa tries to move, to struggle, but his hands are tied and the sparks coming from his fingertips are nothing more than sparkles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks up to where Iwaizumi is, right in the eyes before he shouts with all of the air he has left </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>I LOVE YOU HAJIME</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" And Iwaizumi, he can't- he can't sit here, bared by his parents, bared by love itself when it's right in front of him and he can do nothing-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he's stepping into it, they're taking the stool-no, NO-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>I LOVE YOU TOORU!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" He shouts with everything he has left, but he's not in Tooru's place, he can't escape, he can't leave-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He can't, he's not able to, they've locked him in. He's a slave, a slave to the world and a slave to himself and he can't see, the tears are too much, there's too much noise, too much-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Minutes tick by like hours and before Oikawa completely collapses from screaming, he holds on to the front of his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why does he do that? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He knows, he knows he's choking, he knows he's dying, he can't do anything-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something cold touches his neck, and something warm finds the base of his chest. He pulls out a simple gold band. It glows and pulses, and feels like Oikawa's hand holding his or the kiss they shared only such a short time ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The memories are stored here, he recalls. Every moment with Oikawa, every one of Oikawa's that he's lived, pained or not, and people he's never met, all of their joys and sorrows, within the ring of metal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched Oikawa get taken down, and stores one last promise in a band of memories as deep as the oceans. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Halfway across the world in a thick jungle many, many years later he shows a secret colony of witches the band that's sat on his neck since the day he's received it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Years after that day, and after Catholic training, and after "priestly righting" he left and swore to never return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witches lead him with hushed looks and solemn eyes as they guide him to the Goddess of the Earth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Goddess sits on a throne of flowers that don't perch her up but simply makes her more comfortable. Her eyes look thinned from fatigued and her green skin and hair are losing their colour. She slowly drags her face up to his eyes, where she speaks like every beautiful melody combined. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Is that it</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" It's hushed, not desperate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods his head and hands it to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets the light absorb around her. Her features glow in a rainbow around her and restore to a fruitful green. Flowers begin to stem around her and blossom, and a simple tiger lily sits on top of her left ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm sorry.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" He's had a lot of people tell him they're sorry. But she sounds like she really means it like she could fix all that ails him and take on the burden everyone else who said that carried in offence to his behalf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>You come to me, yet you are mortal. And even then, you've given me this gift. Please, there must be something I can do in return. Anything.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a deep breath as Tooru used to when saying something important. He's walked all of the way to find her. For as much vitality he put in his steps, he's so tired. Tired of the thoughts, tired of the burden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please. I ask that you end my life." He knows now, that he's done enough with his life. He's trekked halfway across the world to finish Oikawa's mission, along the way saved as many orphaned children in pain as he could, but every part of his journey has had the essence of Oikawa trapped to his very soul. It would only be right to set him free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Goddess, however, has her eyes open wide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please do not mean this. I've seen your past. I know what you've been through. I can't bring him back, but if you intend to hurt like him I won't allow it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No-" He doesn't want to contest anymore, he's doesn't want to argue. "There just must be a way. I-I-" He won't utter the word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes flow rivers of sympathy. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Humanity is too fickle and unkind. They never understand. I am getting the impression you feel the same toward me."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to breathe an answer, but the words won't come out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm sorry that when given the choice of anything within the realm of my possibility, you've chosen to wind the clock to the eleventh hour."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The vines encase him, and his soul feels the drain. He doesn't fear sleep anymore. The visions stopped coming after that day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels like he's being pulled into the comforting hug of the Earth, and his eyes drift off closed for eternal sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ground is replaced by someone's arms, and he falls into them until he can't feel the prickle of heat anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Time to rest hero, for your quest has finally been completed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You're beautiful,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And evil too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sinister and vile.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For you, I'd die,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Or kill myself,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Whichever makes you smile.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And if I succeed,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'll count all your teeth,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'd swing from the gallows and wave.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And there, from the noose.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lest you cut me loose,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'd carousel into my grave.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The excerpt at the end is actually from I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME's song "From the Gallows". The song itself doesn't really fit the fic but I thought the chorus went pretty well with it. </p><p>Social plugs on the twitter @phoenixesse or tumblr @rosiey9 for updates and rebloggings/retweets of people's cool things.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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